


VIP

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: RSVP [2]
Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Misunderstandings, New Years Eve, Still no excuse for this, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5676988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow-up to <i>Plus Ones Welcomed</i>, or Four Times Rhys and Jack Almost Kissed and One Time They Did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	VIP

**Author's Note:**

> I had the best of intentions to have this fic out before December 31st (let alone January 9th), but life happened. Life happened so much. Hopefully it's still enjoyable in the post-holiday season. Thanks to michaelandthegodsquad for cheering me on through the final push.
> 
> Picks up in the middle of [Plus Ones Welcomed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5292914), so lreading that one first is recommended.

I. White Russian

 

Jack hadn’t been bullshitting him; it really is the best White Russian that Rhys has ever had. Rhys rolls it around in his mouth, letting the burn of the vodka chase away the chill from outside.

Jack’s eyes drop to Rhys’ mouth, and Rhys feels like time slows down around him, the already warm air of the bar pressing in on him.

Then the door opens, bringing in a gust of cold air and a chattering group of shoppers. Jack’s eyes flick to the door, and the moment is broken.

Rhys shifts his drink on the bar. It was probably his imagination, the way Jack had almost seemed to lean over the counter to him. He was just being friendly. It probably didn’t mean anything.

“So.” Rhys clears his throat, and Jack’s attention shifts back to him. “Are you doing anything for Christmas?”

 

* * *

  

II. Mistletoe

 

The annual family Christmas gathering is, of course, at Aunt Martha’s house. Rhys had hoped that Jack’s performance at Thanksgiving would be enough to get Rhys uninvited, but apparently Aunt Martha is made of sterner stuff. 

Jack doesn’t seem to mind making a repeat appearance, though; he is proudly sporting the most hideously ugly Christmas sweater Rhys has ever seen, and has taken the opportunity to practice staring holes into cousin Jeffrey’s head. Rhys appreciates the gesture. 

Jack disappears into the kitchen during present un-wrapping and returns with two cups of coffee. He hands one to Rhys, who is about to express his undying gratitude when there is an ear-piercing shriek from one of the younger cousins.

“ _Mistletoe!_ ” Rhys feels every pair of eyes in the room turn to him as Christa points at something over his head with a face-splitting grin. “Now Rhys and Jack have to _kiss_.” 

With a faint sense of dread, Rhys looks up, and sure enough there is a clump of beribboned red and green hanging from the ceiling. He turns to Jack, ready to tell him that they don’t have to, _really_ -

But Jack is looking at him with something like a challenge in his eyes, and the words die unspoken. Jack leans in slowly, and Rhys lets himself wonder, for just a moment, what it would be like if he let this happen, if Jack kissed him in front of everyone. 

Jack doesn’t, though. Jack’s lips press warm and dry against Rhys’ cheek, a chaste touch that is there and gone, and then he’s turning back to the room at large with an easy grin as the unwrapping resumes.

Rhys is unprepared for how cheated he feels.

 

* * *

 

III. Camaro

 

The feeling chases Rhys for the rest of the day. He’s hyper-aware of Jack in a way that he hadn’t been before. Every brush of Jack’s shoulder against his, every casual touch at the small of his back, every time their fingers touch - these small moments seem imbued with a heavy meaning that Rhys can’t decipher.

Rhys catches himself watching Jack for longer than is really appropriate, even (especially) for someone he’s only fake-dating. Jack looks back, holding Rhys’ eyes until Rhys looks away.

By the time they finally make their escape, Rhys can feel the tension humming inside of him. He can’t stop thinking about the almost-kiss under the mistletoe - Jack had definitely _almost_ kissed him, right? But it was a probably a good thing that he hadn’t. They weren’t _really_ dating. Rhys definitely shouldn’t be imagining Jack’s hands on his shoulders and Jack’s lips on his, warm and firm and -

“I think this is your stop, kiddo.”

Rhys comes back to himself with a jolt. Sure enough, they’re back in front of his apartment building, Jack’s car idling on the side of the street.

“You okay there? You’ve been awfully quiet since we left.” Jack is eyeing him with something like concern.

It’s on the tip of Rhys’ tongue to say _no_ , he is not all right, to demand that Jack stop playing and kiss him for real, dammit -

Rhys squashes the impulse. “Haha, no, I- I’m fine.” He pastes on a smile that is, judging by Jack’s raised eyebrows, not very convincing. “I’m just tired. Thanks again for coming with me, I know it can’t have been the most fun way to spend Christmas.”

“No problem, pumpkin. You call me anytime you need to irritate your relatives.” Rhys doesn’t know what to say to that - _thank you? I will? -_ so he takes it as his cue to get out of the car. He doesn’t want this to be the end of, for this to be the last time he sees Jack, but he can’t bear to sit in awkward silence until Jack kicks him out. He’s barely opened the door, though, when Jack stops him with a hand on his knee.

“I, uh.” Jack clears his throat, and Rhys would almost say he looks _nervous_ , except that in the short time Rhys has known him he’s never seen Jack look anything of the sort. “I’m having a little get-together at Hyperion on New Year’s. You could drop by. You know, if you’re not doing anything.”

Rhys feels something loosen in his chest, and he can’t see it, but he knows that the smile he’s wearing now is miles more genuine than the one he had on a minute ago. “I’d love to. I’ll see you then, all right?”

Jack squeezes his knee once and lets go, his own grin wide and relieved. “See you then, tiger.”

Rhys gets out of the car and watches Jack drive away, something light and singing in his chest.

 

* * *

  

IV. Champagne

 

Apparently by “a little get-together,” Jack had actually meant “a full-tilt, can-hear-it-halfway-down-the-block, guest-list-at-the-door party.” Rhys is bemused to find his name on the VIP list, which gets him ushered in past the mile-long-line at the bar to one of the circular booths at the back, where Jack is animatedly holding court. 

“So I’m telling him, you can walk out or be carried, pal, your choice.” Jack looks up as Rhys approaches, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but Rhys swears Jack’s face lights up even more when he catches sight of Rhys. “Rhys! You made it. Come on, sit down, let’s get you a drink.” He signals the waitress and catches Rhys’ hand to pull him down into the booth. It’s a tight fit, so Rhys’ thigh is pressed up against Jack’s from knee to hip. It’s warm in the restaurant, but Jack feels warmer, and Rhys relaxes into it. 

The others in the booth are eyeing Rhys with interest, and Jack makes introductions. “This big guy is Wilhelm, you ever need any kneecaps busted, he’s your man; Nisha is the dark-haired beauty staring holes in the side of my head, don’t believe anything she says about me.” Wilhelm doesn’t turn out to be much for talking, but Nisha, who turns out to be a force of nature, takes to Rhys right away, commandeering his phone and entering her number. “We’re going to be great friends, I can tell,” she says, and Rhys is frankly too overawed by her to object.

Wilhelm asks how Rhys and Jack know each other, and Jack grins, much to Rhys’ trepidation. “Oh, you’re not going to believe this. Actually, you know me, so you will.” Rhys’ fears turn out to be unfounded - he actually comes off pretty well in Jack’s telling of the story. Jack doesn’t dwell on the particulars of Rhys’ family - “jackasses, the lot of them” - instead focusing on his self-styled heroics. “And then I said that we had an appointment to get matching tattoos, and dragged Rhys out of there three hours early.” He turns to Rhys with a smug grin. “Not bad, right pumpkin?”

“My hero.” Rhys rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. It might be Rhys’ imagination, but it seems that Jack leans forward the tiniest bit.

“Heroes get rewards, don’t they?” Jack’s still grinning, and Rhys can’t help the way his eyes drop to Jack’s lips. The rest of the bar seems to fall away, and Rhys is seconds from closing the gap between them, the hell with what Nisha and Wilhelm think -

“Ha! You’re no hero, Jack.” Nisha’s sharp laugh cuts through the moment. Jack turns away with a pout and an “aw, c’mon babe,” and the conversation devolves into a verbal sparring match between the two of them, filled with inside jokes and references that Rhys only half follows. He takes a drink to cover his disappointment, and finds Wilhelm watching him speculatively. It’s okay, Rhys thinks. He can be patient.

Rhys can be patient, but New Year’s is a long night, and several rounds of drinks mean that Rhys eventually has to excuse himself to the bathroom. It’s as he’s making his way back to the table that he sees them.

Nisha, with her head bent close to Jack’s, saying something that makes Jack throw back his head with laughter, unreserved in a way Rhys hasn’t seen him before. Jack, with his hand low on Nisha’s back. Nisha, leaning in to plant a kiss on Jack’s cheek, and it’s with a cold wash of realization that Rhys sees what’s going on.

Jack and Nisha are _together._ Of course they are. They’ve been so close all evening, and Jack called her “babe” - Rhys doesn’t know why he didn’t see it before.

But really, he does know why - he wanted to believe there was something between him and Jack, that they had connected despite the awkwardness of their first meeting and Rhys’ terrible family. It was why Rhys had made excuses to his friends about tonight, why he had come all the way across town for a man that Rhys is realizing he actually knows very little about.

Rhys feels like an idiot.

Jack looks up, and his eyes meet Rhys’.

But Rhys has seen enough.

 

* * *

  

+1 Fireworks

 

The air outside stings Rhys’ face as he leaves Hyperion, but Rhys hardly notices. He’s too busy cursing himself for an idiot, for having gotten things so wrong. 

And really, how could he compete with Nisha? She was stunning, smart, and Jack clearly liked her a lot. They looked good together. Jack had done Rhys a favor by being his pretend-date for the holidays, and maybe there had been some friendly flirting, but that’s all it was - friendly. It was time to get back to reality.

Rhys pulls out his phone, wondering if he can snag a cab before the post-midnight rush. He’ll text Jack something perfunctory about leaving early. Rhys will get a cab, he’ll go home, and tomorrow will be a new day. A new year. He can put all of this behind him. 

If he thinks about it one step at a time, he won’t have to think about Jack very much at all.

So he already has his phone in his hand when it buzzes with an incoming text. Rhys looks down, hating the part of him that is still hoping it’s from Jack.

It’s not, though. It’s from Nisha.

_ <I think you have the wrong impression.> _

And then, a few seconds later - _ <And just so you know, Jack doesn’t run after anyone.> _

Rhys is still standing on the sidewalk, staring at the screen, when a strong hand comes down on his shoulder and whirls him around. His protest dies in his throat, because it’s _Jack_ who has him by one arm, Jack who has apparently followed him out into the cold without a jacket, Jack who is wheezing a little -

“Did you run out here?” Rhys hears himself say.

“No. Yes. Maybe.” Jack waves one arm, agitated. “That’s not important. What is important is that you _stop_ for one second.”

“Why?” _Jack doesn’t run after anyone_ , Nisha had said, but here he is, and he _still_ hasn’t let go of Rhys.

“Because you’ve got the wrong idea, okay? Look, I know you saw me and Nisha -” Rhs tenses up and tries to pull away, but Jack won’t let him. “And yes, we used to date, but that’s _over,_ it’s been over for ages.”

“You’re not dating.” Rhys repeats carefully.

“No. You and I though, that could be a different story. If you wanted it to be.” Jack steps closer, and his hand shifts to the back of Rhys’ neck. “Why do you think I asked you to come out tonight, kiddo? To be a third wheel?”

“I guess not.” Rhys can feel himself start to smile as Jack’s other hand slips around his waist.

Jack huffs. “He _guesses_ not. You know, I was going to wait until midnight, but I think we’re close enough."

Rhys can’t quite keep up with this conversation. “Close enough for what?”

“For this.” Jack pulls Rhys in, and then finally, _finally_ , Jack’s mouth is on his, warm and demanding. Jack kisses like he knows what he’s doing, smooth and strong and with a hint of a bite, like he knows exactly what will make Rhys weak in the knees. Rhys gives as good as he gets, arms coming up to pull Jack even closer, catching Jack’s bottom lip in his teeth as Jack groans into his mouth.

At first Rhys thinks the thundering in his ears is oxygen deprivation, but as he lifts his mouth from Jack’s and re-opens his eyes - when did he close them? - he hears cheering from inside the restaurant and the noise resolves itself into fireworks that paint Jack’s face red and gold. This close, he can see Jack’s mismatched eyes and the faint scar that bisects his face, can feel the rumbling in Jack’s chest as he chuckles.

“See? Told you it was close enough.” He winks, and obviously the only proper response to that is for Rhys to pull him back in and shut Jack’s mouth with his own.

It’s well after midnight before they make it back in to the party, but the way Rhys figures it, they’re just making up for lost time.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the section titles are all legit - or at least Googleable - drinks. Yes, even the Camaro.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thirtysixsavefiles)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] VIP](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570106) by [argentumlupine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentumlupine/pseuds/argentumlupine)




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